


(Un)dressing Room

by 1JettaPug, Ruriruri



Series: KISS Me One Last Time [2]
Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: 1970s, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Arguing, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fights, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, M/M, Male Slash, Marking, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Partners, Neck Kissing, No Lube, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rock Stars, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 14:33:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16996812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruriruri/pseuds/Ruriruri
Summary: Months after their drunken tryst, Gene still can’t hold back his desire for more, especially when he knows what Ace and Paul are up to on tour. But with flaring tempers, drug abuse, and infighting leaving KISS on the verge of imploding, maybe another encounter isn’t such a good idea.





	(Un)dressing Room

Two hours in the makeup chair. Two hours of leaning into the mirror, two hours of working and reworking every segment of the elaborate Demon pattern, making sure that it was symmetrical, that it looked good from every possible angle-- this was a televised interview and not a concert, which meant any mistake would be doubly obvious, with the closeness of the camera.

Two hours of sitting beside Paul, glancing over as he finished up on his single star, always tortuously slow for such a simple design. Paul hadn’t said much. He had spent more time in the dressing room staring at himself than talking to anyone else in the band-- whatever, they all had their moments of prima donna shit. Except Paul was glancing back at him every so often, red lips pursed almost nervously, as if he were on the verge of saying something, asking something. Gene kept trying to meet his gaze, but each time Paul jerked his head back to the mirror, dabbing on some more translucent powder or redoing his lipstick, and the moment was gone.

Ace, well. Ace was already a disaster. Coked-up and drunk but plenty coherent enough to do his makeup and flirt.

“Wipe your nose, Ace,” Peter commented from where he was perched on the edge of the other makeup counter, his own paint already on. “Don’t want Snyder to call the cops on you.”

“Just a little blood, pretty kitty,” Ace said. “Wanna kiss it better for me?”

Peter snorted and shook his head. He’d been erratic lately, more than usual. Pissed about their outfits for the new album, pissed about his own drumming… his heart wasn’t in the band anymore, just in the drugs and the girls. Couldn’t have been at a worse possible time, either. KISS had to present a solid face to the world. At least act like they were comrades-in-arms even if things were falling to pieces backstage. The solo albums bombing had sealed the deal: they _couldn’t_ make it apart from each other. They had to stick together. Gene just hoped to God that he could make Peter see that, but deep down, he knew better. Tanking. They were all tanking.

The one thing that didn’t seem to be tanking was Ace and Paul’s fooling around. Once Gene had found out, it had just seemed like it was staring right at him in marquee lettering. It wasn’t as if he were actively trying to catch a glimpse, find some more evidence; it wasn’t like they weren’t reasonably careful-- but now that he knew, he could pick it out. He could hear Ace scurrying over to Paul’s hotel room from a door away, the muffled conversation and then the muddled groans. It wasn’t every night on tour; both of them seemed content enough with the groupies, sometimes taking two, three an evening, same as him. They definitely weren’t exclusive. But it was some nights. Definitely some nights, and it wasn’t stopping.

It shouldn’t have bothered him. Or, rather, it should have, for different reasons. Paul should have known better than to keep at it, and Ace was too much of a wild card. Fucking around while KISS was on the verge of disaster was like adding kerosene to a lit birthday cake. Ruin was one fuckbuddy spat or one bad album in an oversaturated market away, and Gene knew it. 

But the real reason it annoyed him wasn’t so simple as KISS’ faltering future. No. It was thinking about them, what they were doing. As Gene took his Polaroid snapshots, urged his girls to pose, watching them dangle the room key in their fingers, in their mouths, or between their breasts-- he was thinking about Paul and Ace there in the next room. He was thinking about Paul’s lips wrapped around Ace’s cock. He was thinking about Ace draped over Paul, his mouth grazing Paul’s neck and his fingers scraping against his shoulders. 

He had gotten a taste of what they had, and he hated that he wanted more.

His own drifting hand on his brush distracted him out of his thoughts, as he glanced back into the mirror and saw he’d drawn one winged curve nearly to the edge of his mouth. Paul looked at him and silently tossed the cold cream over to his side of the counter. Gene took it without a word.

He was in too deep.

It was distracting him- distracting all of them! They should have been more focused on their music, on KISS! They should have been riding high instead of barely keeping their necks above water… and… and he didn’t know how to fix it. It was terrifying. Through it all, he’d felt like ultimately, he was in control, he was responsible. But he couldn’t be. He couldn’t be responsible for three other people who seemed hellbent on destroying their own futures. He couldn’t be responsible for the unraveling band.

Putting friendships and band dynamics at risk was definitely not how he wanted to go about fixing KISS, however. He would suffer closing his eyes and gulping down his shame for the rest of his life if that meant an instant fix for them.

“Gene~ Gene~ You look great~!” Ace smiled, walking over to him and setting a hand on his shoulder. His fingers played with the edges of his cape and rubbed at its smooth fabric.

“Mhm,” Gene grunted, forcing his attention back on correcting his makeup in the mirror, trying not to give the coked-up guitarist any sort of material to work with. Apparently, a grunt was more than enough for him, though.

“Aww, c’mon, stop being sooooo grumpy! Crack a damn smile every once in a while, would you?” Ace poked him below the jawline. His fingers stayed hovered in the air beside his face for a moment, like he wanted to move them towards his lips, but he pulled them back when he saw the way Gene glared at him in the mirror. “Alright, alright. Mr. Grumpy Demon, I get it, I get it.”

“Do you now?” Gene replied, casting another look towards the guitarist and actually turning his head around to him this time. “Then explain to me why the _fuck_ you’re still holding that bottle of champagne.”

“Aw, fuck you,” Ace shot back at him. He turned on his heel, surprisingly not falling over, but stumbled back to his chair.

“Leave him alone, Gene,” Peter hissed from his own corner of the dressing room. “He’s just loosening up.”

“He’s fucking drunk! And he did a couple lines before even coming in here!”

“Oh, what?! Like it’s such a big deal-”

“Yeah, Peter! It’s a big deal! I swear to God, you two are gonna kill yourselves!” You two are going to kill KISS, rang in the back of his mind, but he held his tongue for the time being. They were going on stage soon, and he didn’t need to have them both at his throat before they even began filming.

“Jesus, Gene! Everybody fucking does it!” Peter stood up, striding over to where Gene sat. “Everybody but you! Don’t give me that shit about your mom. You’re just too scared of doing something stupid to have a good time!”

Gene bristled, barely able to bite back a response. It was only a testament to how little he wanted things to escalate before the interview that he didn’t answer. Peter was a drunk and an addict, but neither of those things meant his claws couldn’t sink in when he wanted them to. If anything, those barbs of his got worse when he was intoxicated. Paul turned in his chair to face Peter and Ace, one elbow resting against the makeup counter, heaving a sigh.

“Can you all keep it civil for once?”

“Oh, don’t you pretend you’re any better, Paul,” Peter snapped. “Do I have to remind you of that _Hotter Than Hell_ photoshoot? How many times did you grope my ass and giggle like a fuckin’ middle school girl? Embarrassing!”

“That was five fucking years ago, Peter. Did you enjoy it that much?”

“Aww, I bet he did, Paulie~ You saw those smiles when the pics came out~ HAHAhahaHhaaH! ” Ace laughed, throwing his head back, then throwing the bottle back with it, muffling his mirth.

“Shut the hell up, man!” Peter hissed at Ace, finally narrowing his eyes at his best buddy for once. Peter’s anger being directed at Ace had the guitarist’s brows scrunching up together on his confused face. He hadn’t expected the drummer to snap at him this evening, apparently, but it seemed Peter’s rage was reaching its boiling point even for him.

“I thought you said he was just loosening up,” Paul said. “Oh, sorry, I forgot it’s only okay when it’s Gene he’s pissing off.”

“Fuckin’… Don’t drag me back into this,” Gene muttered under his breath, pretending to glance in his mirror to check for any flaws in his makeup.

“Wake up, Paul! You too damn caught up in your own damn reflection to see the huge-ass stick Gene has stuck up his ass or what?!”

“There’s nothing wrong with him not joining you and Ace on your little binges! Hell, maybe you should start looking at how he lives his life, and I dunno, maybe not waste yours on booze and drugs, Peter! ’Cause, I dunno if you’ve noticed lately,” Gene’s eyes widened slightly as Paul’s tirade continued. Shit, he knew exactly where this was going; Paul was going to try to declaw their Cat! “But your drumming fuckin’ sucks! We’re not a damn _jazz_ band, you moron! We’re a _rock and roll_ band! Pick a damn lane, would you!?”

“W- WHY YOU--!” Peter roared, extending his hands out in rage and curling them into fists. Suddenly, he made it very clear to Paul that his words were going to be his downfall since he saw the fire he had set ablaze in their drummer’s eyes. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!” he screeched, charging towards Paul.

Gene had seen enough. He stood up and wrapped an arm around the green rug they had ridiculously stuffed Peter into for his outfit and held him back the best that he could.

“FUCK YOU, GENE! LEMME GO! IMMA KILL HIM! LEMME GO, YOU--!”

“NO!” Gene growled at him, casting a scorching glare around at all of them. “Listen up, assholes! We’re going on in five minutes! Now, I don’t know about any of you, but I still give a shit about this band! We’re going out there, and we’re going to be civil, goddamnit! Now, Peter,” Gene tossed him back to his corner of the room. “Sit down and shut up! Paul, you do the fuckin’ same for once! Ace, put that goddamn bottle down before I shove it down your throat, you piece of shit! I’m not dealing with this shit tonight! Fuck… I just will not goddamn take it anymore, you hear me?!”

Peter’s hands were still clenched at his sides. He didn’t sit down, but didn’t say a word, either, his eyes slitted, furor absolutely emanating from every inch of him. Paul’s gaze had ended up somewhere on the floor, and Ace-- Ace just stared at the bottle of champagne before setting it down with a weak thump against the countertop.

“Guess we’re done, huh?” he said softly, sounding rather forlorn. “Guess that’s it. Hottest band in the world… we can’t even keep it together in the dressing room. Shit.”

It was too close to the truth to be coming out of Ace’s mouth. But there it was, laid painfully bare out in front of all of them. Paul jerked back in his chair as if he’d just been shot, rubbing the side of his chin hard before turning back to the mirror, apparently finding his own reflection more comfortable to face than the rest of the band. Peter muttered something Gene knew he couldn’t afford to pay attention to, or all his talk about civility would smash into pieces. They sat and stood there like that, the silence smothering, almost unbearable, until the expected knock from the production crew shattered it.

“You’re on in five, boys.”

“...Alright,” Gene sighed. He looked around the dressing room one last time at his bandmates. They were all staring up at him, waiting on what he was going to tell the crew member. Still depending on him for the final word, despite everything. It didn’t make him feel any better. He just felt sick. “We’re… We’re ready to come out.”

“Cool, I’ll let them know.”

The door shut and the silence swept back into the room. Gene exhaled, frowning at the wave of emotions rolling over his shoulders and settling deep in his chest. The feelings he had built up, shoved away and tried to forget were all mixing together and festering into a toxic concoction that he knew was going to explode if one more thing went wrong tonight. One more thing... 

He breathed in, then out, deeply. God… he didn’t know how they were going to get through this interview.

The first to move was Peter, pouncing over to Ace and helping him up out of his chair. He sent Gene a side eye as he grabbed the champagne bottle and downed the rest of it right before him.

Gene’s lips twisted down into a sort of sneer, but he said nothing. What could he say that he hadn’t already said? No, he just watched on as Peter hauled Ace out behind him. As they walked, the Space Ace cast both Paul and him a look of complete seriousness that captured their gazes for a moment. He was quick to turn away, though, perhaps finding it easier- a lot easier and more relaxing- to just turn his attention to Peter. The second the door shut, Paul and Gene could overhear Ace snorting and cackling, as if the last ten minutes never happened. Maybe if Ace just forgot and didn’t care… or at least pretended like he forgot and didn’t care, maybe that would be enough to even cool Peter down and help him relax as well.

“...And then there were two.” Gene huffed, throwing some stray hairs over his shoulders. 

He stared straight on into his mirror, doing his damnedest to ignore those big brown eyes staring straight through him and into his heart. He wanted to cringe, he wanted to scream and shout, he wanted to jump up and grab him by the shoulders, yank his head to the side and go to town biting down on his neck, leaving a huge, purple mark for all the world to see-

Gene drew in a quick breath. Perhaps too quick since Paul’s pout broke for a split second into a look that held more concern. The lead singer moved out of his seat and faced him, his fingers twitching nervously? Anxiously, anyway, Gene decided, glancing in the mirror one last time before turning back to face him for himself.

“...Gene,” It was said too soft, too sad for it not to just drive its piercing blade right into Gene’s heart.

He shut his eyes and leaned his head back some, as if it would erase the pain he was feeling. “Paul… don’t. Just don’t… Please… Don’t do this to me. I… I can’t fix this… I don’t know how to fix it. I… I…” he sighed, then turned his face to the side. Those emotions were bubbling up in his chest again… and he honestly didn’t know if he could hold them back for much longer if Paul tried something now. He didn’t know if he wanted to.

Heels clicked against the floor of the dressing room, one after another, until they stopped right before his chair. Gene shut his eyes even harder, willing Paul to just vanish into the next room or the hallway outside. But when those smooth, warm fingers brushed over the left side of his neck, Gene could just swear he felt half those emotions in him just evaporate, instantly!

He grabbed Paul’s hand, needily- greedily, even! Those rough hands of his just snatched up his whole arm, then before either of them could blink, Paul had been hauled down into his lap.

“G- Gene…!” Hungry. Lonely. Angry. Needy. All of them flowed right through Paul’s tone, pouring over Gene like blood from an open wound. There was a heaviness, a darkness in his expression that belied the want in his eyes. Something held him back, something was holding Paul back from really giving himself over right then and there. “ _Please!_ We- We need to t- talk…!”

“No, no, no. Not now, not now,” The bassist hastily hushed him, shaking his head. His hands were running over Paul’s body, under his ridiculous feathery pink get-up and just taking in everything that he had been denying himself for so, so long. Denying himself for the good of KISS, for the good of his best friend. Being the responsible one because no one else would fucking bother. He was tired of that. He was tired, he was exhausted, and right now nothing, nothing felt better than Paul’s warm skin against his hands. “No talking, Paulie… Please… J- Just let me have this for two seconds... All I need is two seconds…!” Gene pleaded with him, trying so damn hard not to sound just as broken as him over everything. “God, let me have this!”

“Dammit, Gene--” Paul squirmed on his lap, trying not to rip up any of his outfit on Gene’s clunky armor. “W- We need to talk! Not just- AHhhh!” he cried out as thick fingers brushed through his hair and gave it a quick yank back. “Na- No! N- No! Gene, we have to talk…!”

Another sharp cry rang free from his throat as Gene tugged his head to the side and placed his blackened lips down to the soft skin of his neck. They parted, and Paul gasped when those fangs of his bit down into him. They weren’t vampire teeth or any bit sharp enough to instantly poke into him and make him bleed, but the sheer feeling and knowledge that they could was making Paul’s heart beat a bit faster.

“Gene…”

“Don’t… Don’t talk,” His voice was quiet even when he was so close to him, barely above a whisper. “Let me… _let us_ have this for a minute, please.” The words were all hot breath and low vibrations, barely a drag of his lips against Paul’s skin. 

Paul swallowed, then just let his head fall back into Gene’s grip.

Gene was all too thankful, and he returned his attention back to his neck. He nipped gently along Paul’s throat, then soothed his first bite with his long tongue, and Paul let out a moan, followed by a shuddering gasp as Gene licked over the same spot again.

The lead singer was all too quickly losing his ability to think coherently when Gene’s hand slipped down into his pants, rubbing their way down past his hips. Meanwhile, his tongue found a sensitive pressure point right below Paul’s ear, and it teased the area relentlessly. The feeling went straight to Paul’s cock, and he instinctively bucked his hips upward and a bit off Gene’s lap. 

“F- Fuck!” Paul moaned. “F— _uck, oh fuck, fffuck._ ” Anything other words just seemed to completely vanish from his vocabulary. Everything that he had wanted to say before had just been shoved aside and off a cliff into a void of forgottenness, though they were just about on the cusp of escaping past his ruby lips. 

Gene’s breath was gentle against his ear. “SSsshhh, sshh. Don’t be too loud…”

Paul held back an indignant huff. _Don’t be too rough, then_ , he thought to himself before dragging in a quick breath of air as Gene licked over his bite mark once more. 

Finally, Gene was giving in. Finally. The worst time to manage it. Definitely the worst time, but right now, it didn’t seem to matter. Ace had insisted it wasn’t worth it, Gene wasn’t worth it, but Paul had tried to confront him anyway, tried to demand an-- an explanation, touch base, something-- and every time, he’d lost his nerve. Found some reason to back off before he’d even begun. It was hard to get Gene alone while they were on tour. No, that was bullshit. It was hard to get _Ace_ alone while they were on tour, between all his buddies and roadies and groupies, and yet Paul managed that week after week. 

No, Paul was just afraid. Afraid and all too willing to let that crazy, drunken night be best forgotten if it meant preserving his friendship with Gene, no matter how the memory of it yanked and tore him up inside. The anger and then the awkward indifference from Gene immediately afterward cemented it, made Paul sure that night was something Gene regretted, didn’t want to discuss, much less repeat, but now he knew better. Now he knew Gene had been wanting it again this whole time. It was electrifying. Electrifying and frightening, and he had no idea what to do with it.

“Mmmh, Paul… I… I need to tell you-” A sharp knock at the door cut him off. Gene’s eyes widened, and he brushed Paul off his lap with little warning, fearing the backlash of what another would do or say if they saw them like this.

Paul fell onto the floor with a graceless thump. He sent a scathing glare up Gene’s way and was about to yell at him when he was cut off himself.

“ _One minute!_ C’mon, Paul! C’mon, Gene! We got a show to film! Hurry, hurry!” It was the final call before the curtain rose.

Gene felt his cheeks heat up a bit in shame underneath his makeup, realizing that there had been no real reason to shove Paul onto the ground. He… He just overreacted. He doubt Paul saw it that way, however.

“Paul… I, ahh, I’m sorry-”

“ _Don’t talk,_ ” Paul snapped, throwing Gene’s own phrase back at him. “W- We don’t even have time for your excuses, anyway…”

The lead singer rose up off the floor, brushed him off before turning his back to him. He walked over to his mirror and adjusted his bedazzled choker so that it covered up the dark bite mark on his neck, already starting to bruise. His fingers only hesitated a second before shoving it up some. A small part of him wanted to keep it shown, wanted to let it be real, let something be real in all this fakery. But that small part was slowly being drowned out by the slowly persisting knocking at their door.

“Guys! C’mon!”

“Let’s just go, Gene…” Paul muttered quietly, glancing at him, then to the door. “We can’t keep them waiting any longer… There’s… There’s no time left.”

“Paul…” Gene’s hand rose up about halfway before it fell back down. He bit his lip and curled his hand into a fist at his side. Damn. Damn himself. Damn his feelings. Damn everything in the whole damn world! Look at where he had landed them! This was what he got for not shoving those feelings down ever further!

Gene cursed under his breath and watched Paul walk out the door without him. He moved towards the door, himself, already dreading the sort of happy act he was going to have to force on his face. He wondered just how long that would last in the interview and decided it didn’t matter. Any sullenness on his part could be explained away by his Demon persona, although he hoped like hell it wouldn’t come to that. However, pissed Paul might be, he at least cared about KISS enough to not let it affect the interview, or so Gene hoped. That left Peter and Ace, who’d at least seemed in better spirits when they’d headed to the stage. 

Gene exhaled and yanked the door open. Just a thirty-minute interview on late-night T.V. They’d get through the same tired old questions, leer at the cameras, and maybe they’d all be in a better mood by the end of it. Maybe. Maybe he’d even be able to kick aside that mix of foreboding and awful want in his gut, too.

 

 

Gene wasn’t sure which of his bandmates he wanted to throttle first as they all stormed offstage and retreated to the dressing room. He would have settled for whoever was in his nearest vicinity if Paul hadn’t darted out in front of him and immediately slumped into his makeup chair as if it were a bomb shelter.

Tom Snyder’s uproarious laughter was still ringing in his ears. Every mouthy comment from Ace and Peter, every halfassed ramble from Paul. Keep it together. Yeah, they’d kept it together. They’d turned the entire interview into a farce that even Gene couldn’t begin to repair. In six hours the show would air all across the country. A million preteens would be up past their bedtimes watching half their heroes perform an impromptu sketch comedy on Halloween night.

He barely managed to wait until the dressing room door was shut and all pretenses were unnecessary before clearing his throat for his tirade. But it seemed as if someone was hellbent on beating him to the punch.

Peter was glaring at Gene, his eyes burning with hatred. Gene knew it, too. His tongue twisted around inside his mouth, as he tried to think of a way to keep the evening from devolving into him turning around and blocking a punch to the gut. Eventually, however, he did have to turn around and face him, and he almost physically flinched from the intense glare that their drummer was sending his way. Sighing, he threw down the towel he had picked up to begin cleaning his face, then braced himself as he got ready to face the music.

“ _What?_ ”

“Don’t,” Peter seethed, enraged. His hands curled in and out of fists quickly by his side, but they only moved to grab his green jacket and take it off. He threw it at Gene’s face. Gene blocked it, then stood up to his full height, towering above the hissing Tom Cat who was trying to scratch him. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare _“What?”_ me!”

“Shut up! Are you even aware of what the hell you were talking about out there-” Peter shoved him back so hard that Gene fell back onto his chair. He blinked in shock.

“‘Toy guns’!? What the literal fuck, Gene! I’m a full fuckin’ grown ass man! I have a gun collection! I shoot real guns! I enjoy talking about gangsters! So, the fuck are you saying, ‘Toy guns’?!” Peter shouted right at his face, spitting a bit onto his chin. “Ahhh, but you can go off and be Dracula all you like, but I can’t talk about guys like Scarface for two seconds?! Fuck that shit! _Fuck you!_ ”

“ _Fuck you_ , Peter!” Gene shot back at him. “You can’t go spouting off you have a gun collection on TV! You can’t say if you stole money, then you’d give it to the poor like Robin Hood! Who the fuck says stuff like that?! We’re rockstars, not criminals, you fucking lunatic!”

“You couldn’t take a hint from either one of us that you should’ve just shut your trap!” Paul broke his way into the conversation. 

Peter was all too quick to pounce on him. “Oh, ho ho, finally! The Starchild has decided to say something for the first time all evening that isn’t a story about having sex with a sixteen-year-old girl! Because that’s some real family-friendly shit right there!”

Paul turned his face back to the mirror, lips pursed and staying that way forever at this point. He grabbed the cold cream, smearing it on his face before roughly wiping it and his makeup away with his towel.

“Yeah! Just turn back to your mirror, you vain fucker! It’s the only thing you can keep your eyes on for more than two seconds at a time tonight!” Peter hissed, cruelly.

“Stop it, Peter! They’ve had enough!” Ace’s voice shot up from across the room. “You’ve told them off!”

Paul’s head tilted a small bit in Ace’s direction, but he turned it away just as quickly as he’d looked over to him.

“I’ve told them off? Ace, buddy, you must really be gone, ‘cause I dunno if you’ve noticed,” Peter threw his arms out and motioned to the Spaceman, himself. “I barely got a fuckin’ word in tonight, you damn drunken chatterbox!”

“Peter… what the hell, man?”

“You think you’re funny taking the spotlight, making the rest of us look like assholes? You think you’re cute with all that shit? It’ll be real cute when you’re puking your fucking guts out!”

“Just having fun, Peter, I didn’t mean…”

“Don’t go mouthing off to him like that, Peter!” Paul threw his own towel down onto the table top of his station. For all he’d been staring at the mirror, there was still plenty of makeup residue on his face, the leftover eyeliner a grayish-black smudge streaked almost to his hairline. “You would’ve done the same shit if you were the one drunk tonight!” Peter’s glare seemed to grow more intense as Paul spoke. “Oh, let’s just give it another week, we’ll have you both drunk off your asses, giggling again in the background on a morning talk show or something!”

“Fuck you, Paul!” He turned to Gene. “Fuck you, Gene!”

“Peter! W- Wait!” Ace tried to stand up out of his chair. The only thing he managed to do was fall flat on his face, then shakily glance up at his best friend. “N- No! Don’t go! We’re happy to have you with us! We need you, buddy!”

“You don’t fuckin’ need me,” Peter scoffed, casting a heated glare at Paul again. “Hell, these two assholes don’t need you- they don’t deserve you, Ace! They don’t deserve us!”

“Is that right?” Paul asked, giving him a flat look from over his shoulder. 

“Hell yeah, it is! I’m outta here!” He hissed as soon as he could, twisting his head away from his bandmates.

“Kitty! Peter!” Ace cried out, stumbling back to his feet just as the door slammed shut, rattling the walls around them. For a moment, he just slowly looked back between Paul and the door, as if expecting Peter to waltz back in, Paul to stand up and them both magically hug out all their problems. But it never happened.

“Peter… Paul… Paulie, what DID YOU DO?!” Ace shouted, stumbling over to Paul and falling on his knees right at as he reached his seat. His nails dug into his leather pants and his face paint was smearing over everything. “PETER’S GONNA QUIT!”

“Good,” Gene said, finishing up on wiping his face off. He threw the towel down onto the arm of his seat, then turned around to look at Ace and Paul. “Who needs a raging, drunken, drug abusing asshole in their group?”

“YOU PUSHED HIM AWAY!” Ace cried out. He shoved his face back into Paul’s lap as his hands reached up to grab his hands from their armrests. “Paulie… Paulie… c’mon, don’t do this to me, now…. I can’t deal with it! I can’t, I can’t-”

“Ace, you gotta calm down,” Paul said, casting a wary look at Gene. Nine years of knowing one another was plenty long enough for Gene to read that expression. Paul wanted him to leave. Probably so he could do all his comforting in private. The corner of Gene’s mouth curved into a sneer. No. No way were either of them being let off that easily. Not after that disaster, that buffoonery. “You know how Peter is. He’s pissed off, but he’s not going anywhere.”

“He’s pissed off because of you!” Ace had both of Paul’s wrists in his hands, gripping them hard. “Don’t you get it? All-- all he wants is a little fucking respect and you don’t give it to him!”

“We don’t give it to him if he doesn’t deserve it, Ace!” Gene told him, catching the lead guitarist’s full attention. “Hell, now that we’re talking about it, why are we still giving it to you? You went out there plastered and coked-up- and you still are!”

Ace’s eyes seemed to snap and hold on Gene right as he turned his head to look at him. Ace snarled at him, streams of tears just starting to roll down his painted cheeks at all the anger and sadness he had boiling over in him over this mess.

“Lay off him, Gene,” Paul said, twisting one wrist out of Ace’s grip only to rest his hand on top of his. “I get it. We all fucked up here. But drop the lecture right now, all right?”

“You ever gonna let him fight his own battles?” 

“I’m not gonna let you start picking them when he’s like this!” Paul told him. “What’re you even going to yell about that we haven’t already tried to drill into his brain? Drugs and his use of ’em?”

“Yes! He talked about his drug use on TV!”

“He didn’t say anything incriminating or even specific!”

“Paul, we both had to step up and just shove his comments under the rug each time be brought it up!” Gene exclaimed, then pointed his index finger down at Ace and barked, “And where the fuck did that fuckin’ bear come from?! That was the most childish, dumbest shit you did tonight!”

“H- Hey! Do NOT call Commander Beary out like that, Gene!” Ace shouted back at him. God, he looked like such a mess with those globs of tears just sprinting down his cheeks and chin. “Paul! Paul, make him stop!”

Paul sighed, “The bear was really dumb, Ace.” he admitted, softly. “You were playing with it, making it fly around and dressing it up in your cuffs… Ace, we’re rockstars….”

“Wha… What do you mean by that, Paulie?”

“He means we don’t play with fuckin’ teddy bears while being filmed for TV interviews- or movies- or anything!” Gene explained, sounding too much like an angry father explaining to his kid why he shouldn’t do something stupid. It was common sense! Something, it seemed, the Spaceman was lacking. Of course, they knew that, but none of them ever seemed to remember it while Ace was goofing off in the moment.

“But Commander Beary had a mission to Mars-” Ace tried to tell them. Both Paul and Gene groaned at the bear’s hastily thrown together backstory. “Then he was going to fly back to Jendell for a debriefing!”

“And just how old are you again? Grow up, Ace!” Gene growled, deeply. “Goddammit, why does it always have to feel like dealing with a two-year-old when you’re like this?”

“I’m not lying!” Ace proclaimed, loudly.

“Ace, Ace,” Paul called out to him, softly trying to bring his focus back on him. His hands reached out and captured his cheeks, tenderly turning his head to him. Gene watched, feeling more disgust wallow up inside him by the second. “Ssshh, Ace, calm down. Calm down… Gene’s not calling you a liar, and I’m not calling you a liar… I just don’t wanna hear about your home planet right now, okay? Okay.”

“Paulie,” Ace whined, leaning into the gentle touch. “I… I...”

“Dammit, Paul, would you stop enabling him just because you want back in his pants?”

“I- I’m not enabling him!” Paul tried but failed to not raise his voice, breaking the trance he had gotten Ace into. The lead guitarist’s eyes widened a bit at the change in tone, and he almost pulled out of his touch.

Instead, he wrapped his mouth around Paul’s left thumb and muttered, softly, “Paulie… _Paulie_ …”

“Yes, Ace… what is it?” Paul sighed.

“ _You mother fucking liar…!_ ”

A crunch was heard, indicating the snap between Ace’s teeth and Paul’s thumb bone! Paul reeled back in pain and used his other hand to try to pry Ace’s mouth open. Gene jumped up, as well, dashing over and throwing his arms around Ace, tugging at his jaw, then just pushing down on the pressure points around it. Finally, they got him to release!

Gene threw him back down on the floor and moved in next to Paul, looking down at his thumb and making sure it was alright. Paul’s eyes were watery, the ring of teeth marks around his thumb already a painful-looking red, blood seeping out from the cut, but the joint itself still seemed fine. Gene groaned. At least Paul would still be able to play for concerts, assuming KISS managed to survive until their next line of tour dates. It was looking less and less like a possibility with every second.

“H- He bit me! _You_ -” Paul yelled, directing his outrage down at Ace below. “You bit me!”

“ _You stabbed me!_ ” Ace cried, tears pouring down his cheeks again. “Fuckin’ stabbed me through the fuckin’ heart! … _You_ ,” Ace leaned back down on the floor, curling into himself a bit. “You toy with me… constantly… ‘M not just some damn groupie…”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Paul was rubbing his thumb, watching the blood drip in irritation, staring incredulously down at Ace. “You fuck around all the time! Jesus, you even have a wife! How the fuck am I the one toying with you?”

“How are you not toying with _me_?!” Ace shouted back. “And how can you just sit there aa _aaaallll_ the damn time and pretend like nothing’s happening! Like your feelings don’t exist! _Fuck-_ It’s bad enough I gotta watch every day go by with Gene ignoring how _he_ feels, b- but when it’s you-- you’re just making me suffer lately! P- Paulie, I- I _can’t_ do it for much longer! B- being in KISS… Imma fuckin’ kill myself if I stay!”

“Ace!” Paul looked scared, eyes wide. Gene opened his mouth, about to tell him it was a sympathy ploy, a means to keep getting his way with him, but the desperation in both their expressions made him stop short. He didn’t have the patience or the temperment for this shit, especially not right now, but he wasn’t going to walk out on the two of them, either. Not when Paul looked frankly terrified and Ace was falling apart. Gene watched as Paul scrambled over to Ace, got down on the floor in front of him, and clutched him by both shoulders. “Don’t say that, dammit! Don’t even think it!” 

“How can I not?!” Ace cried, weakly beating his fists against Paul’s chest. “H- How can you not? Dammit… I- I just don’t wanna go on in this messed up band… And I don’t wanna be between you and Gene i- if that’s what y- you want....!”

“Oh, Ace,” Paul spoke softly, pulling him close when he finally gave up trying to beat him off. “Ace… No. Dammit… We didn’t talk about this… None of us did…” he paid a glance back towards Gene. His expression remained soft and his voice even, but his eyes held a sort of hurricane behind them. It was a storm that had been brewing for quite some time… _Months_ … The word echoed in the back of his mind from when Paul had said it earlier. But was Paul blaming him? Shoving all the blame from all of this onto him? He seriously thought this was his fault?

“What’s that look supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means…” Paul told him. He tucked Ace’s head under his chin as his hands gently brushed through his dark locks of hair, carefully undoing any tangles they came across. At the sight of Paul’s tender treatment, the deeply rooted revulsion rose its way up into Gene’s throat, making him hesitate in his response,

“...I’m not getting it…”

“You’re a bad liar, Gene.”

“Liar… L- Liar…” Ace hiccuped softly, doing his best to try and echo Paul’s gentle tone as his voice broke. “Both of you…”

“Ace, sshh, no,” Paul hushed him.

“What are you even talking about here?” Gene asked, but he was ignored by them both.

“Paul… I don’t want him here right now…” Ace sniffled, nuzzling deeper into his touch. “I want you...”

“I know, I know,” Paul murmured. He looked back at Gene again, his big brown eyes pleading with him to leave them alone if he was just keen on continuing this useless fight. “I’m here. ...Gene’s leaving soon-”

“I’m not leaving you two right now,” Gene told him, flatly. “So deal with it.” At his words, a sudden look flickered across Ace’s face, one that seemed too serious or as though Ace wanted to pick a fight. The look passed quickly and was replaced with sad, emotional exhaustion. Gene hated how it stabbed at him, feeling alarmed by the chord it struck in him.

“You care now…? W- Why do you care _now?_ What changed, Geno? Huh?! _What changed!?_ ” Ace’s voice rose higher and higher, exploding into, “YOU DITCHED _US!_ YOU TRIED TO MAKE _US_ FEEL BAD! HOW DARE _YOU!_ PAUL WAS SOOO DAMN UPSET FOR LIKE FUCKIN’ MONTHS!”

“Wha-” Gene tried to cut in but was instantly denied.

“NO! SHUT UP, YOU POMPOUS BASTARD! Dammit…!” Ace cursed, then drew back in another deep breath to continue, “BUT J- JUST HOW DARE YOU! GENE, YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND- DON’T EVEN CARE!”

“I don’t even care- are you serious!?” Gene tried to keep the broken tone out of his voice, but he failed. The toxic, steaming wave of emotions was finally starting to pour out of him. His voice cut through Ace’s crying, and Paul looked up at him and pulled Ace even closer, as if to shield him as Gene began shouting, “OF COURSE I CARE! DAMMIT! HOW COULD I NOT?!”

“You certainly never acted like you gave a shit,” Paul shot back at him. “I mean, what was it you told us? ‘Last night never happened,’ and ‘Just forget it’?”

“You were fucking agreeing with me, Paul! How the hell was I supposed to take it when all you could do was apologize?!”

“I was drunk- we were drunk! Hell, I didn’t want to approach to you like that… I- I didn’t want you to think-”

“What? What didn’t you want me to think?” Gene threw up his hands. “You had your goddamn pants on your head! My opinion of you couldn’t have gotten much lower!”

Paul had just enough dignity left to flush, and then he shook his head, eyes back on the floor. Gene swallowed. Keep pressing Paul, and he’d clam up entirely. He’d keep the whole world out if he could, everything that troubled him-- and that was damn near everybody-- just as long as he had a mirror and a microphone. That was Paul, whiny, self-obsessed, insecure. Prone to bitch, but also prone to work harder than anybody but Gene himself. Prone to defend the wrong people to the death, prone to that weird romantic streak Gene found somewhere between endearing and insufferable. That was his best friend.

He wouldn’t get the answer out of him, but he felt like he knew it already. It was a dead weight lodged somewhere in the back of his throat. As long as it stayed there, things might be all right. As long as it didn’t ever push through to the surface, they could just keep going indefinitely. Keep up that same stupid spiral of denial until they lost themselves in it.

Or until he got desperate again. Until those feelings bubbled back up and he couldn’t deny himself anymore. What then? Another rerun of earlier tonight? More frenzied run-ins when the pressure got too insane, and then more denial right after? He didn’t know. 

“Paulie,” Ace cut back in, catching Paul’s attention before he managed to answer. “Paulie! Just tell him! J- Just fuckin’ tell him for the love of God…”

“There’s nothing to fucking tell him, Ace!”

“Yes! Yes, there is!” Ace turned his head towards Gene. “Gene! Listen, Paulie has a cr-” Paul’s hand slapped over his mouth, effectively cutting him off. As quick as his hand covered Ace’s lips, though, it was even quicker to move away when Ace leaned back then tried to bite at it. Paul flinched back, and he gave a soft grunt when Ace shoved him back onto the floor. 

“Stop it, Paul! Just stop it!”

Paul was shaking his head, almost desperately as to not have the lead guitarist say anything else. “Ace, no! No! There’s nothing to tell-”

“There is! Quit with the bullshit, Paul!”

“It’s not bullshit!” Paul cried out, tears edging their way out from the corner of his eyes now. “J- Just stop it! Don’t say anything!”

“Ace, he doesn’t want to talk about it! For fuck’s sake, let the guy alone!”

“Shut up, Gene! I’m not gonna sit here and let this go now! Dammit, it’s been months! I’m not gonna listen to him bitchin’ and cryin’ for one more goddamn night on account of _you!_ ”

“ _Gene_ ,” Paul gave up on appealing to Ace. He turned to the bassist and whined, “Please, please, d- don’t listen to him! He’s drunk! He’s on coke! H- He doesn’t know w- what he’s talking about!”

“You fucking coward!”

“ _Ace_ -”

“ _PAUL FUCKIN’ LOVES YOU, GENE!_ ” Ace shouted at the top of his lungs, shouting so hard his voice cracked, and he slumped back down onto the floor as his cry faded.

“...!” On instinct, Gene’s eyes immediately ran to the door. He waited and waited for someone- anyone to burst in and call them all out for being queers, fags or homos! He waited some more…. There wasn’t even a knock.

He breathed out a long breath that he hadn’t realized he had drawn in, then glanced back to his bandmates on the ground. A sharp pain flew straight through his heart as his gaze landed back upon them.

“...I told you, Paulie…” Ace sneered, glaring with all his drunken might at Gene’s face. “What did I- I tell you…? He doesn’t care about us. All he cares about is himself- his image… Buncha bullshit...” he shook his head. “...So how could you fall so hard for _him_ , then?”

Paul’s voice was small, broken even, as he replied, “... _Ace… how could you?_ ”

All seriousness and sneering immediately dropped from Ace’s expression as he turned around to glance at Paul. His eyes widened, and he opened and closed his mouth but no words came out. As his hand rose up and out towards him, Paul scooted away and against the wall of the room. He curled in on himself, hiding his face from the others- hiding his tears- but mainly just trying to hide his shame.

Gene just stood there. There was nothing, absolutely nothing he could say. He couldn’t resolve this. He couldn’t make this better. A part of him wanted to ask how long, and a part of him felt sick for being curious. It wasn’t an ego trip to be wanted this way.

“Paul, look…” Gene swallowed. “If that’s how-- then why did you both start in on me that night? Why didn’t you just go for it yourself, Paul?”

Paul didn’t answer. Ace was looking at Gene again, eyes bright and watery. 

“Leave us alone…!”

“Paul,” Gene tried calling out to him again. “Paul, answer me! Why didn’t you just come to me without Ace? Why did you need him, huh?”

“...” Paul curled up even tighter, refusing to answer to anything.

Gene’s patience was thinning out, quickly. “... Oh, what, you can’t do something gay without your little temptress here to help you trick me?”

Ace’s eyes lit ablaze, and he acted as if he were going to jump to his feet to kick his ass. If only his drunken state hadn’t decided against that plan since he just wobbled on his knees a few inches towards Gene instead. “L- Leave him alone! Leave us alone!” he growled out.

“No! I want answers!” Gene snapped. “...But I guess I can just blame you for all this, you fuckin’ wild card.”

Paul’s head finally turned away from the wall and back to the action. He didn’t say a word, but his expression could’ve lit Gene on fire if it had the power to.

“You ‘tricked’ Paul into this whole mess to begin with, didn’t you?” Gene continued his little tirade at Ace. “I bet you did! What, did you get drunk one night and fall into his bed?”

“Shut up, Gene! J- Just shut up-”

“I’m right, aren’t I? It was you the whole damn time!” Gene exhaled. His pulse felt like machine gunfire throbbing at his neck, his voice throaty, heavy. “You got him into all this shit. Paul wouldn’t have had the guts to go for you any more than he’d have the guts to go for me.”

“Gene,” breathed Paul, finally, a quavering note of warning in his voice, “You better stop it, stop it right now.”

“Or did you get _him_ drunk and take your sweet time seducing _drunk, innocent little Paul?_ ” Gene mocked Ace’s words from their night together all those months ago. It was more than enough to finally make Ace snap!

“ _DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO UNDERSTAND WHAT WE DO! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE! YOU DON’T KNOW! YOU NEVER KNEW! I TRIED TO INVITE YOU IN! YOU JUST FUCKIN’ RIPPED OUR HEARTS OUT! JUST- Just, just_ stop kidding yourself… Stop…” Ace slowly broke down, finally retreating back and collapsing into Paul’s awaiting arms. He buried his face into his chest, crying, his breath hitching every other sob, and he soon wrapped himself fully around him. “ _P- Paulie…!_ ” he cried, softly.

An icy feeling gripped Gene’s heart. Any brief satisfaction he might have felt had evaporated before the words finished spilling out of Ace’s mouth. He could guess all he wanted, come closer than they wanted him to, but ultimately, Ace was right. He didn’t know. He had no idea what had brought them together or why they’d let him join in. Less idea of why they stayed together, in some loose, open, harried sort of sense. But Gene was starting to see the part he’d been playing, the part he’d kept playing, in ripping whatever they had apart.

“P- Paul… Ace… I- I never-” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. All he could do was stand there, watching silently as he watched his bandmates grieve together. Forget his disgust- hell, he felt more disgusted with himself and his own actions, or lack thereof, for the past couple of months than anything else currently! He had driven Paul and Ace into a turmoil of hell and fire! It didn’t matter whether it was unknowingly or not! He could’ve just talked to either one of them, and then none of this would’ve happened! Hell, if he had talked to them, then maybe this whole evening wouldn’t have happened!

A thousand thoughts ran through his head, all at once, but a few stuck out and were staring him straight in the face.

If he hadn’t been such a goddamn coward, then maybe Paul and him could’ve convinced Ace to get off the drugs by now… They could’ve forced him to cut back on his drinking… They could’ve knit themselves closer together like how they all used to be… They… They just wouldn’t be in this mess right now. Paul wouldn’t be crying and torn up, with a bleeding thumb. Ace wouldn’t be threatening to kill himself if he couldn’t leave KISS.

Gene stepped back from them, his chest rising and falling quicker the more he thought about it. Had he… Had he driven them all to this point? Was KISS falling apart because of him…? 

Breathing suddenly felt very impossible to him, but he drew in one last quick breath as he saw Paul lean down and kiss Ace’s forehead, tenderly.

All of a sudden, to them, it was like Gene wasn’t in the room anymore. At least, they acted that way, or perhaps neither of them cared enough anymore to even try to hide their affection in front of the bassist. Maybe they even wanted him to see.

It was a far cry from the drunken makeout in the cab. Slower, more of an ease instead of a frenzy to each motion. They settled down against each other and grew comfortable. Paul tilted Ace’s chin up and held it until his lips came carefully crashing down upon his.

Like magic, Ace was soon smiling into the kiss and pleasantly flushed. Eventually, Paul only pulled back for one second, but it was one second too long for the needy lead guitarist. He kissed Paul on his slightly parted lips and drunk in the gasp Paul let out in response. Paul’s hands finally came to life, and he wrapped his arms around Ace’s waist and leaned in to deepen their kiss.

As they kissed, Gene could overhear the laughter Ace shot through into his body and into Paul’s, and he just knew that those vibrations were sending a strong heat- a wild desire into the singer. 

When the two of them pulled back, their lips were still close enough to touch, and they found themselves lost in each other’s soft gazes. Gene felt so confused and sad watching them.

For all his years of being best friends with Paul, even he couldn’t read those stars in his eyes as well as Ace demonstrated he could right in front of him. Hell, from where he stood, he could just hear those unspoken words- whole sentences, even- of theirs pass back and forth between the two of them. He could just see them agreeing in their own words that this situation was a lot more complicated than either of them really wanted to address. And Gene… Well, Gene was sure that his own next course of action was going to come back to bite him in the ass.

He undid his cape and threw off the top half of his armor before gently striding over to the couple. He sunk to his knees, and he didn’t miss the way Ace visibly flinched and backed away from him. Paul crooned out to him softly and pulled Ace back against him, purposely turning his head away from Gene, though.

“...What?” Paul sniffed, finding it oh so much easier to look at the floor than the bassist. “Come to fuckin’ torture us some more…?”

“No… No, Paul,” Gene sighed, softly.

Ace flinched at his words, or perhaps just his voice in general, but he calmed down when he felt Paul reach down and squeeze his hands in reassurance. 

“...Well, you couldn’t have stooped to our level for any other reason.” Paul said, his voice doing its best not to shake.

“I’m trying to apologize, all right?”

“A- Apologize?!” Paul squeaked the word out. His mind seemed to run the word over and over again for him, and he still couldn’t seem to comprehend that it had come from and was meant by the bassist. “...You’re not here to apologize, Gene. You wouldn’t fall to your knees to apologize to anyone!”

“Paul… let me prove it to you. Please…” Gene spoke in such a hushed tone, careful now as to not scare Ace away from Paul’s embrace.

Paul’s heart beat faster as Gene moved closer to them, but he still felt himself being drawn in towards him, inevitable as a record needle shifting to the next track. They’d let too much go unsaid. Allowed too much to go unfinished. The hurt was still heavy on his mind, but so was the need. The brief satisfaction from before the interview, the satisfaction of knowing Gene still wanted him. Whether it was in the vain, stupid way Paul wanted him or not, that much didn’t really matter. He wasn’t half as hung up as Ace over being acknowledged outside of sex, as long as Gene was this near to him. He let Gene grasp his chin between two fingers and his thumb, tilt his head up at him and meet his eyes.

For a moment, he stopped breathing, finding himself lost yet again in another man’s warm gaze that evening.

“G- Gene…” he gasped, finding the distance between their lips being shortened very quickly. Just as Gene’s blackened lips could barely brush the soft surface of Paul’s, though, Ace slammed forward into Paul, knocking him out of Gene’s grasp. He pressed his face against his chest and cried needily into it, effectively capturing all of Paul’s focus.

Gene did his damnedest to not let the irritation and agony show on his face, instead just silently leaning back some and watching as Paul wrapped his arms tight around Ace.

“Ace, ssshh, ssshhhh,” Paul soothed him, gently. “We’re good~ We’re all good-”

“Nooooo! I don’t want him here! I don’t want him with us!” Ace wailed aloud, begging for Gene to vanish from the room.

“He won’t be; he won’t touch you, Ace.” Paul said, paying a soft look up at Gene. He shook his head at him, then continued, “It’s gonna be you and me right now, okay? Okay.”

“Paulie~” Ace sniffled. Paul’s words, it seemed, were enough to calm him down and promise him a normal, routine night between the two of them. Something good, something sweet, something special that only they shared between each other. It had him calm within moments.

Of course, there wasn’t anything routine about Gene in the background. Paul was just going to have to work around that and totally distract Ace from that fact, too.

Gene swallowed. Probably for the best if he did leave. But what did he really have to return to, if he headed back to their hotel? More ruminating? More thinking about them, wondering what they were doing to patch things up? Another litany of tour dates stretching out like stars in the sky, dozens of hotel rooms he’d never have the key to.

He didn’t want to care. But he did.

He started to head for the door, leaving the cape and armor on the floor for their costume guys to retrieve later. His hand was hovering on the knob when Paul finally spoke up again.

“Gene, if you even want to _think_ about having a chance again, you’re gonna stick around.”

“Paul…” He bit down hard into his lower lip. His heart throbbed at the offer of there evening being a chance, still. Slowly, he moved away from the door and began to drift back to them. Paul was quick to snap at him again, though.

“That wasn’t an invitation. Or a guarantee.”

“If you’re making me stay here, I want a better view.”

Paul looked at Ace almost nervously. Ace hadn’t wanted him there-- at all-- but Paul did. Paul wanted to throw it all in Gene’s face, force him to see what he’d been missing out on all this time. Force him to see what he’d probably denied even to himself, that this was a regular thing, that Paul didn’t need to be drunk off his ass to want Ace. That Ace didn’t need any pretense to be with him.

That Gene could’ve had a place here. But it was more than that. Knowing Gene all this time, watching him obliterate relationship after relationship without even needing drugs or alcohol to help him do it-- Paul wanted to show him what it could be like. His times with Ace never had that sloppy, desperately empty edge all of Gene’s trysts seemed to have. There was something between them that Gene hadn’t ever come close to.

Ace broke the silence, finally, with a slow nod of his head. He was catching on. He was getting it. Any residual hurt was swept back as he pushed his bangs behind his ear, taunting, “You wanna real show, Gene?”

“You’re gonna do it on the floor?” Gene asked, moving back to sit down in his chair.

Paul turned back to Gene, giving him an incredulous look. “...You, of all people, have no right to judge where we’re doing this.”

Gene was quick to raise his hands in defense. “N- No, no. I’m just thinking that’s hard on the knees!”

“We’ve done it in harder places…” Paul muttered, shaking his head. He missed the look of shock and slight horror that danced across Gene’s face as he tried to imagine what Paul meant by that. 

“Paulie~” Ace gently pressed his lips to his cheek, bringing Paul back into the heat of their moment. “Mhm, my sweet Paulie~” he crooned, pecking soft kisses down his cheek, along his jaw, and even down his neck. Paul leaned into the affection, welcoming it with a deep purr. As his mind began to cloud with mists of desire, he forgot why he hadn’t removed his choker that evening. Ace’s fingers undid its strings in the back, letting it fall down Paul’s front, but they stilled beside his neck the moment Ace’s lips made contact with a dark bruise and hours-old indentions.

He pulled back from his partner, as if he were electrocuted. Ace’s eyes widened and his smile fell from his face and straight off the face of the whole planet. 

“Paul… Where… Where did this- _this_ come from?!”

Paul blanched.

“I-- it’s not--”

“It wasn’t there this morning! All we did today was the interview!”

“Ace, i- it’s nothing! Must’ve fell-”

“ _Fell?!_ ” Ace shouted back at him. “Fell on what?! A set of chattering teeth!? Paul, you have bite marks!”

“Ace, it’s not what you think-” Paul tried to tell him. “I- I just tried to talk to him-”

“ _Gene!_ ” Ace’s head whipped around, and once more, he looked ready to pick to a fight with the bassist. “Y- You- You Paul-stealing bastard!”

“Ace-”

“Can it, Paul! I don’t wanna hear how you fell on his dick, too!” Ace growled, not even bothering to turn his head back towards his partner. He pointed a shaky finger in Gene’s direction and continued. “You fuckin’ homewrecker!”

“ _Homewrecker?_ ” Gene about laughed. “Ace… in case your drunk, coked-up mind has forgotten, let me remind you,” he moved over towards them a bit, leaning his full height over him. “ _You’re married!_ ”

Ace’s face started to flush, and for a minute, it seemed as if he wasn’t going to respond. Paul looked as if he wanted to melt into the floor.

“Jeanette knows I fuck around! She does, too! It’s not the same!”

“Not the same? Shit, are you even hearing yourself right now?” Gene shook his head. “You’re probably with groupies more than you’re with Paul!”

“They don’t matter like he does! None of them do!”

“What do you mean?! Ace, what kind of messed up, dysfunctional relationship have you tangled Paul into?”

“You don’t know-”

“I don’t know because neither of you will fucking tell me! You’re not doing a damn thing but holding it over my head like--” Like it was something he’d want. 

Ace cringed, his hands balling up into fists at his side. Paul caught one before he could raise it and firmly held it in place.

“Look, it’s our mess, all right?” Paul fired back. “We’ll deal with it with or without you.” He let go of Ace’s hand only to work on snapping off the wrist-cuffs he’d spent the interview attaching to the teddy bear, tossing them on the floor. “C’mon, Ace…”

The sullenness on Ace’s face could have cut through steel. 

“Hey, what’d you say during the interview?” Paul was leaning in, looking undeterred, cupping Ace’s cheek, while his other hand smoothed down the side of his chest. “‘We don’t wanna go any lower, that’s reserved for concert-payers.’”

“Paul, c’mon--”

“See, I pay attention.” Paul’s hand found its way to Ace’s crotch, or tried. The utility belt design made his reach and groping awkward at best. “Fuck, easier getting you out of this last tour…”

The corners of Ace’s mouth started to twitch up.

“Maybe I wanna make it hard for you.”

“You do a good job.” 

“I try,” Ace chuckled, briefly. It was getting harder and harder for him to keep his sour attitude up when Paul was being so sweet to him. Hard, too, when deep down, he knew Gene was right. He didn’t really have a claim to Paul. They’d never even made a verbal commitment, they’d just-- continued. Paul had added up girlfriends like grocery bags; Ace had gotten married; neither had ever stopped fooling with groupies. So it shouldn’t matter who else Paul was touching-- but it did. 

He thought about all the bite marks he’d left on Paul’s skin before. Poor Paulie, who seemed hellbent on showing as much skin as possible onstage, exactly opposite of Ace. He usually complained about the bruising, but Ace figured he liked it, or he wouldn’t have kept letting him add more. Sometimes he’d catch Paul looking over them in the morning, tracing them with a fingertip. Right near his collarbone, or on his shoulder, right near his tattoo… Gene’s marking him up was nothing in comparison. Whatever Paul felt about Gene, Gene wasn’t the one he was caressing now.

“Mm, just tell me what you need,” Paul breathed out, barely audible as he pressed his mouth to Ace’s neck. “Hey, Ace, how about a strip tease?”

“Sure~” Ace teased, grinning at him and giving two thumbs up.

Meanwhile, Gene sat back in his chair and gulped audibly, glancing between the two, and perhaps silently wanting to see what exactly Paul performing a sober strip tease would entail. As long as he didn’t set it to music this time, Gene didn’t think he’d mind.

Paul paid the bassist a single wary glance, then quickly looked back to Ace. He booped a finger on his nose and smiled, “Well, maybe later,” he told him. “Just let me get out of these feathers and ribbons first…”

“It really isn’t a shirt… is it, Paulie?”

A sigh ran past his lips as he tugged the top half of his outfit off. “I drew it, they designed it,” he murmured, tossing his shirt over into the middle of the room.

“I love how you design as little fabric as possible to cover your tits~” Ace giggled, lightly. “Makes ’em easier to touch~” He leaned forward, his hands getting real grabby. Paul gently slapped his hands down and shook his head. 

“Hold on, Ace. We’ll get to that in a second. Let’s get you out of your spacesuit, first,” he told him, moving Ace back from him just a bit. He undid the velcro top of the outfit, lifted it up above Ace’s head and tossed it to the side. “Turn around, on your knees, c’mon.” Paul gently nudged him.

Only a few minor whines escaped him as he turned over, but he did as he was told. Paul unzipped his black bodysuit and pulled it down to about his knees. As Paul’s hands rested themselves on his hips, Ace turned back to face him, wielding an extreme pout against him. “P- Paulie! I don’t wanna wait-”

“Knees,” Paul said, gently rubbing his thumbs into his sides. He leaned up real close, pressed his chest into Ace’s back and gave a smooth thrust with his hips to make him move down a bit. “Get down for me, baby.”

“Mhhm,” Ace bit back a moan as he bent over onto his hands and knees. His shoulders rose up slightly as Paul teasingly traced his fingers of his right hand down his back in feather light touches. “Paul…! Save that for l- later! I’m dying!”

“Aww,” Paul cooed, then grinned and licked his red lips. “Alright. Fine, fine. I’ll save it for later...”

Gene shivered in his seat. 

“Let’s have some fun~” Paul’s voice rang almost poetically as he leaned over him and purred softly into his ear. He nipped playfully at it, earning a giggle from Ace that he always enjoyed hearing. Ah, but he could only play so much tonight before it drove them insane. So, Paul raised himself back up and glanced over to Gene. “Alright, Doctor Love, hand me a condom, if you would.”

Gene felt his face heat up just a bit at one of his more favored monikers, especially since it was being used in this situation! Still, he reached over to his bag and fished out his wallet, eventually producing a condom. He flicked it over to Paul as if it were one of their guitar picks. Paul caught it between two fingers with surprising ease.

“Thank you,”

“...You’re welcome.”

With a steady gaze, he looked on as Paul opened the condom up and slipped it on. Gene felt the hair at the back of his neck stand up, his skin tightening in something that he couldn’t tell as disgust or excitement. He took a deep breath as Paul leaned down and kissed the back of Ace’s neck.

In one swift motion, he pulled his boxers down to his knees to where the rest of his bodysuit was bunched up. Ace whined, tilting his head up, and closing his eyes.

Paul finally fully looked back to Gene, cocking his eyebrow again and telling him to, “Watch.”

Gene frowned, squirming in his chair, yet finding himself unable to even attempt to look away. He glanced down with Paul’s body as he began to settle himself over Ace. His eyes widened as he saw Paul spit on his fingers, then said fingers disappeared from his view, reaching down.

“P- Paulie--” Ace groaned, loudly. He felt those fingers press against the rim of muscle, massaging it in slow circles. “AAhh- Ah--”

“Shhh, just relax, Ace,” Paul crooned and painstakingly slowly pushed a finger inside to the second knuckle. Ace moaned and panted, letting out a deep breath and letting his muscles relax. “That’s right, loosen up for me more~” he whispered into his ear, biting his earlobe.

The finger inside him started moving extremely slow, the long, drawn out movements making Ace impatient and twitchy for more. “More, more--” Ace nudged Paul’s leg with his foot, trying to hurry him along. “I want it now-!”

“Don’t be a spoiled brat.” Paul hushed him, pressing another finger inside, both fingers remaining unmoving, however. “You gotta ask me nicely~”

“...Awww, Paulie… T- This is for the whole leaving-you-handcuffed-to-the-bed-for-two-hours-thing last week, isn’t it?” Ace groused, trying his best not to burst out laughing despite his grumpy tone. He failed somewhat and gave a chuckle when he looked back and saw Paul’s flat, unimpressed expression.

If he had seen Gene’s, then he surely would’ve rolled right over onto the floor and died laughing. Died a very happy man if he could’ve seen the horror that struck and snuck its way onto the Demon’s face. Ah, but he never did even have the chance to glance over Gene’s way. Instead, he gasped and cried out as he felt Paul’s fingers being pulled out of him, about shrilly whining at the emptiness that overtook him.

“D- Don’t leave me like this, P- Paul!”

“Well, if only you would ask me nicely…” Paul smirked down at him and waited.

Ace gritted his teeth, only feeling a small bit of shame over Paul making him beg and plead before Gene. His resolve lasted only a moment, though. “Fine, j- just-- just give it to me, c’mon!” he exclaimed, loudly.

Paul turned his focus over to Gene for a heartbeat of a moment, catching his eyes. His expression was one that spoke of a shared power and pleasure between him and Ace that Gene hadn’t know of before. Hadn’t remotely anticipated. When Gene had pictured what they did together, those muddy images he tried to blot from his brain, he hadn’t imagined an actual dynamic between them. Like with the groupies, nothing going on beyond the act itself. But Paul and Ace both were proving him wrong. So perhaps, it may have been a bit smug, but it was more about a show and telling of facts than Paul stroking his own ego.

“Paul--”

The lead singer hummed, switching his attention back to his partner below him. “What was that, Ace? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“F- For the love of God- Fu- Fuck-- Please, please give it to me! Get inside me, Paul--” Ace cried out to him.

“There we go~ That wasn’t hard now, was it, baby?” This time, three fingers were inserted inside of him, stretching and filling him out. Ace groaned as the fingers inside of him picked up the pace, pumping in and out of him. 

Paul’s fingers kept thrusting at a steady pace, which was slowly but surely driving the Space Ace insane, as his cock kept twitching and throbbing against his belly, fully erect. He wanted more, he need more, _needed_ Paul to be inside of him, yet the lead singer seemed content to just slowly fuck him with his fingers like they had all the time in the world. God, he wasn’t even touching his dick.

Gene, too, seemed to be losing patience with the agonizing pace Paul had set, and he had the ability to be much more vocal about it than Ace, as well.

“Gonna get to the part of the show we all came here to see, Paul?” he asked him, his chest rising and falling in complete expectation over the next course of action that had yet to come.

Paul sent him a coy smile. “You’re telling me how to do this? Pfft, please,” he shook his head. “You don’t know him like I know him…”

“Pau- _Paulie--_ ” Ace’s voice broke beneath him.

Gene watched them with a heavy gaze and bit his lip. He drew in a quick breath, then exhaled, saying, “...You’re right. You’re right, Paul. But damn… Even I can see you’re driving him wild…”

“That’s kinda the point here,” Paul muttered, softly. “A little tease, a little performance… Maybe a song number for you, Ace~” he gently brushed his cheek down against his.

“No- Nothing from P- Peter’s solo album--”

Gene snorted. Paul had to pull himself back some and laugh. 

Ace was about to make another comment or joke, but all the air in his lungs was forced out in a sharp gasp as he felt Paul suddenly remove his fingers. Paul spat in his hand and rubbed it all over his fully erect, condom-wrapped dick, earning quite the disgusted look from Gene for his actions.

“What, you don’t have lube in your wallet.”

“...Ugh, that doesn’t mean you just- I mean-” he stopped himself. “Don’t you need lube for this?” he asked him.

Paul gave a little shrug. “You don’t _need_ it, but it’s highly, _highly_ recommended.” he motioned down to Ace below, then said, “We’ve been at this for so long, so often that we can make this work.”

“I- I’m plenty stretched out here, Geno-- Ahh, ah, Paulie- C’mon already~!” Ace broke into their conversation, attempting to pull Paul’s focus back to him.

Gene gave a slight grimace at Ace’s words, trying to not conjure up pictures of every single night the two of them shared. It was one thing for him to know about it through hearing their hotel room scurrying… it was another for Paul and Ace both to flat-out admit it so casually. As if it was normal. It was just too daunting for him right now. He needed to be eased into this… He just needed to sit back and watch, watch and learn.

Seeing how Gene seemed to sit back in his chair and relax, Paul’s eyes finally turned away from the bassist and back to his partner below. 

“Ready for your own _Rocket Ride_ , Ace?”

“Y- Yeah! C’mon-”

“Should we do a countdown?” Gene muttered, surprisingly catching Ace’s attention for a second. The lead guitarist’s face lit up, and he gave a sharp cackle.

“AHAHahhaH, P- Paul! Can we? Oh, pretty please-”

“No,” Paul said, giving Gene a look. “No countdowns. Only take offs, okay? Alright.”

“Aww…” 

“...Maybe next time,” Paul sighed, giving into his partner’s wishes somewhat. Damn. Maybe Gene was right about him enabling Ace…

The head of Paul’s cock nestled in between Ace’s spread cheeks, and he felt it push inside oh so sweetly and slowly, then retract without going past the barrier. Paul repeated the process, constantly pushing and pulling back, never going all the way in. Gene just assumed that he was trying to loosen Ace up just a bit more, and judging by the fact that Paul would push just that little bit further and pull away a little bit less, he was right. After a few moments of that, Gene saw Paul thrust his way in- pushing himself to the hilt. Gene expected to hear Ace cry out or snap back at him or anything! Instead, he just saw the lead guitarist’s mouth open into a wide O-shape and his eyes roll back into his head. He didn’t even wince!

Slowly, Paul started rocking his hips, giving himself some movement both ways. He just pulled out some only to slam himself back into Ace, his stomach colliding against his ass cheeks.

Gene’s head felt as if it were on fire. The realization was finally starting to hit him as he watched on… Paul was really… actually balls deep inside of Ace’s ass. 

He let loose a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding in for a good minute, and the words within his brain just came tumbling out with it. “Shit… Paul, I… I thought you were always the bottom…”

“Wha- _What!?_ ”

Gene rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a hot flash of embarrassment strike him. “I- I, well, you know…! At least with Ace, anyway! I mean… Jesus, ignore me-”

“Ignore him, Paulie!” Ace agreed, snapping at Paul to once again get his attention back on him.

“Why would I always… hey! I don’t… fuck any guys besides Ace…” Paul trailed hopelessly, paying no attention for about five seconds longer than either of them wanted. The expression on his sweaty face was a curious mix of abashed and perturbed, at least until Ace kicked at Paul in retaliation. “... Okay, okay!”

Without any more delay, Paul started pushing back in again, grunting a little as he resumed. The thrusting picked up a lot more than previously, until it reached a steady pace. In, out, in, out, almost perfectly in sync. Gene swallowed. At least with the fingers, Paul wasn’t moving his entire body, and that was soft enough for Gene to understand, to watch without feeling overwhelmed. With Paul’s whole dick stuffed in Ace, though, he had no chance but to just witness it all this time. The rocking of their hips, the slaps of their bodies meeting one another, the increasing moans coming from Ace on the bottom... 

Gene drug a hand down his face, averting his eyes for only a moment. Damn. If he just shut his eyes, then he could at least imagine this between a guy and a girl… But…

He looked back up. His heart gave a solid, heavy beat in his chest as Paul looked over and met his eyes. Paul smiled at him.

No. No, he didn’t want to picture any others in this moment. Gene had denied himself from even trying to imagine what the two of them had been doing together in their rooms for far too long now. He wanted to see them like this- no, needed to see them together like this! It was past the point of him trying to avert his eyes, and for once, Gene couldn’t bring himself to give a fuck about shame or morality.

“...God, you two look beautiful,” Gene murmured without even realizing what he said. Both of them looked right up at him, almost the same startled look in their expressions. 

Ace was the one who turned and looked away. There was a small shake of his head, as if he were trying to convince himself he hadn’t heard those words. Gene almost wanted to say something to him, but any words of his would’ve been lost to the building moans and groans of the lead guitarist. Paul’s hips hadn’t stopped, even though his eyes had become glued to Gene. Something sad, something overjoyed and something hopeful rested in his gaze, watching and waiting for anything else Gene might add. Anything, he didn’t care. You two look beautiful, Gene had said. That was-- that was more than he could’ve hoped for. A single sentence of acceptance and want. Warmth felt like it was seeping through every pore of his body as he kept pumping into Ace, urgent, hands digging into his hips. The need to lay their relationship bare had faded. He just wanted to show Gene how good it could be now. 

“Paulie--”

“Shhh, shh. I have you, Ace.” Paul leaned down and whispered against his ear, pressing himself all the way back in. Ace let out a soft whine at the mild stretch of Paul filling him, not stopping until he was to the root. “I have you,” he murmured again, holding himself still within his partner.

Ace nodded numbly.

“We’re good,” Paul rumbled out as soft as he could. His hands stroked along his sides, making him shiver beneath him. Then he finally began to set a real pace.

All Ace could do was moan as Paul built his rhythm up. Meanwhile the sounds of skin against skin and both their uncensored moans filled the dressing room. Just faintly, if Ace focused on it, he could hear the warm pants and sweaty sounds of Gene building his own kind of rhythm up for himself. It sent an electric thrill through Ace, but it didn’t stop him from turning his head to the side and alerting Paul of this new information.

“P- Pa- Paul--” He panted, heavily. “Gene’s ch- cheating!”

“Gene?” Paul glanced over and caught the bassist red, err, well, full handed. Gene wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it, which was satisfying enough in itself, but-- after all Gene had put them both through, Paul couldn’t let him just rub one out as a spectator. That was way too much leeway. Gene had to get involved, or else he’d find an excuse to back out on them both again. “Gene! No!”

“No? No!? Paaaauul, you can’t expect me not to--”

“Just don’t cum,” Paul shook his head. He gave him a warm smile, then said, “I promise, I’ll make it worth it~”

Thick fingers strummed along his dick as he thought the proposal over. Both side weighed heavy on his mind. One did, in fact, promise satisfaction a lot sooner than the other…. But the other one promised someone else taking care of his problem for him, most definitely making it a more pleasurable experience, too. Decisions, decisions…

“ _Gene!_ ”

“What, what?” He said, meeting Paul’s gaze once more. “I’m thinkin’!”

“You’re thinking about it? _Really?_ ”

“Really, Gene?” Despite still being on the edge of orgasm, Ace still bothered jumping in with his two cents. “You’re gonna pass on Paul?”

“No! N- No, I’m not gonna pass on Paul!” He felt the heat rise to his cheeks as he admitted it.

Paul nodded. “Good, then don’t cheat by rubbing one out on us!”

With that said, Paul took a hold of Ace’s hips, gripping hard but not hard enough to bruise, and Ace just moaned, pushing his hips back against Paul’s, seeking even more.

Ace loved this, and his moans had Paul diving in harder and faster, the sounds of their skin meeting echoing around the room. Paul adjusted his stance, and his next thrust had Ace crying out, the new angle apparently a lot better than the last. Hearing Ace cry out like that did something to Gene, even if this was only about his pleasure, not his own.

As Ace’s pleasure began to build up higher, and higher, and higher in his body, however, he threw his head back and groaned as loud as his voice could manage. Heart pounding out of his chest, heat rising in his body, Ace knew he was getting paralyzingly close-- too bad, he’d have loved to hold out a little longer, really make Gene squirm. Paul seemed to know he was on the edge, too. He could just tell with the way Ace was so hot and tight around him, clenching with every right snap of his hips.

Ace didn’t last that much longer. He came with a gasp, then a cry, his whole body about collapsing onto the floor. White ribbons shot their way all over the carpet, making Gene momentarily imagine what the stage-crew would think when they came in to clean up after them. The thought didn’t last long, though, as Gene snapped himself back into the moment once Paul fell to the floor with Ace.

Their bodies became intertwined as Paul cuddled up beside him, still not having pulled out of him, either. Gene could hear the hushed whispers, those short flirts and praises that they threw back to one another. If he leaned his head up a bit more, Gene could even see Paul nuzzling his cheek against Ace’s, getting some of that clown white makeup back on his face. Tender and gentle. More like a lover than a fuckbuddy.

Gene sat back in his chair. He’d stopped jerking off right around when Ace climaxed, his hands resting lamely on his lap. Their actions were honestly nothing new to him… None of it was… It was just the fact it was between two men- the two of them! It was still new to him. It was disgusting, it was hot, it was horrible, it was driving him insane with wild desire! He just had to have it…! But, yes, he needed to see this. Paul was right. He needed to see this shared, this loving moment shared and cherished.

Paul ran his hands over Ace’s sides as he reluctantly pulled out. It was hard to ignore that low whine of Ace’s as he did, but a kiss from Paul made it all better.

“Now stay here,” Paul whispered to him softly, fingers drumming along his belly. “We won’t be long~”

“Do… Do whatever you have to, Paulie…” Ace sighed, feeling content with the world at the moment. “I may contact Jendell while you fuck ‘em.”

Paul smiled, “Alright, Space Ace.” He leaned over and pecked him right on the cheek. “I… I… Thank you.” he murmured.

It was spoken softly, but even Gene could catch that hesitation in Paul’s voice. Something went unsaid… Even between the two of them, at whatever point their relationship was at, something went unsaid… Gene could only guess at what it was, and it didn’t help that Ace seemed to repeat it.

“Paulie, I….” he muttered, then turned his head away, letting it fall on the floor. He curled in on himself as Paul took off the condom and tossed it in the wastebasket, then stood up and headed to where Gene was in his chair, leaning over him.

“Well?” Gene huffed. “Are you gonna make it worth it?”

Paul just smirked, reaching down to trace a hand down Gene’s dick. It was like a jolt running through him. Watching the two of them so long, with no more satisfaction than his own hand, all that had made him desperate enough that a single touch had him struggling to keep from pushing his hips into Paul’s hand.

“Are you?”

“What do you mean?” Gene raised an eyebrow. “I did what you said. I didn’t get near you two while you fucked. I watched. I didn’t get off. What more do you want, Paul?”

“What I want…” Paul trailed shamelessly, his hand trailing away from Gene’s cock to rest on his knee instead. “I can think of a couple things…”

“Paulie ain’t got that much stamina left, Gene,” Ace piped up from the floor, sounding a little absentminded, the afterglow warming up his tone considerably. “Your ass is safe.”

“Ace--” Paul started, face going crimson. “No, I was thinking about how good you looked earlier.”

“Yeah?” Earlier? Before the interview, when he’d had Paul squirming on his lap? Gene made a mumble that might’ve been pleasure at the thought, reaching over to take Paul’s wrist. Paul just put his other hand on top of his.

“Yeah, when you were on your knees.”

“When I was on my knees…?”

“Yes.” Paul stressed. “On. Your. Knees.”

“...”

“Gene, get on your knees. You said you wanted to prove it to me, well,” Paul flat out told him, not even trying to be subtle for him anymore. “You’re gonna blow this chance unless you start blowing me.”

“Oh--” Gene swallowed audibly. Paul took his chin in those warm, bare fingers of his, tilting him this and that way to examine the look and meaning in his eyes. He was looking for any sort of indication of him backing up, any sort of fakery on his part, but he was glad to only find simple hesitation at the request.

Paul’s eyes softened ever so slightly, and he moved his hand to cup Gene’s cheek. “It’s alright. We’ll go easy.”

“...Okay,” Gene nodded. “What should I do exactly…?” His eyes flickered back between Paul and the floor in something akin to nervousness. But that was ridiculous! He was never nervous like this during sex… but he had never done this kind of sex before… Hell, even his tongue felt heavy and confused in his mouth for once since a blow job was nothing like eating a woman out. His eyes reflected his uneasiness, but thankfully Paul was quick to help it fade.

“Well, you can start by getting out of that chair,” Paul said dryly, but he was starting to smile. Ace snorted from the floor, rolling over to his front, chin in his hands, and watching with an interest that bordered on deviousness. Gene tried to ignore him, but that stare was way too obvious for him to completely blot out as he got up and Paul sunk right back into his place. The temptation to protest was almost immediate-- stupid as it was, that was his chair, damn it-- but he swallowed it back down as he got on his knees in front of Paul.

It was intimidating. Sex with Paul last time hadn’t been-- it had been different, sure, but not completely unfamiliar territory; he’d done anal before. And it had helped that Paul and Ace both had been totally smashed. No expectations. But now Paul at least was sober and Ace’s coke high had worn off, even if the drunkenness probably hadn’t. If Gene fucked up now, Paul was going to remember, and Ace was going to hang it over his head.

“You okay?” 

“Fine. Yeah, I’m fine--” Gene paused, reaching to grab Paul by the hips, the groupies and girlfriends running through his brain as he tried to remember what they’d done that he’d liked, and then realized, just as abruptly, that he was just stalling. It didn’t really matter what he liked, what mattered was what Paul liked. No more indecision. He leaned in, started to make short, tentative licks down the surface of Paul’s cock.

“Don’t bite it!” Ace offered up from the sideline. “He’ll hate that!”

“You’re not helping!” Gene shot back, turning to glare at Ace. Why Paul hadn’t told Ace to leave, he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know where this was going, after all. They’d head back to the same hotel room and probably have another round to themselves. Gene winced at the thought, how that shot another pang of want straight to his belly, but before he could resume, Paul’s hand was in his hair, not tugging or pulling, just coiled in the strands. He looked up.

“Hey, it’s all right. You won’t screw up.” The corner of Paul’s mouth lifted up. “But if you’re that worried, we can always practice. Repeatedly.” So much for what he’d said earlier. Already backing out on this blowjob being Gene’s last chance to get off with him. He’d hate himself for being that weak, except Gene in front of him, lapping at his cock, was too intense to be real. Was something he’d wanted for longer than he’d ever wanted to admit, longer than he’d even admitted to Ace. He swallowed, voice hitching slightly. “I’m not gonna be rough on you.”

“I’m not some innocent virgin here,” Gene said, but there wasn’t any rancor in it. Privately, he was relieved. Paul kept running his hand through Gene’s hair, the motion spurring him on to start taking Paul’s cock in his mouth, just a little at first, tongue roving and encircling over the head. 

“Mmph, a little more~” Gene paused, hesitated to move on. Two of Paul’s fingers gently tapped and nudged the back of Gene’s head forward. “Please~”

The fire in the pit of his stomach twirled at Paul’s please, and Gene bit back a groan at how weak he felt because of it. Giving a sigh, Gene moved forward to wrap his mouth around Paul and bobbed his head slowly. He looked up from beneath his lashes, spotting Paul’s mouth part as he watched him.

Gene’s cheeks burned. 

To help distract from the fact Paul was intently watching him, he closed his eyes and focused on his task, Paul heavy on his tongue. The lead singer gave a breathy moan as Gene began to take him, surprising him by going halfway on his first try. Shifting his knees, he settled his hands on Paul’s thighs, relaxing his throat, trying to take him a bit deeper.

“Christ,” Paul muttered, fingers lightly rubbing over the top of Gene’s hair. “Ambitious as ever, Gene~” he praised him.

It was impossible to smile from this position, but Gene was pleased to hear it. He raised his head again and went back to slowly bobbing his head, feeling Paul thicken, the taste of precum on his tongue. It wasn’t unpleasant, really. No, no, he just hadn’t known what was going to happen with this. He was rolling with it, though. He was calm. He was cool.

When he glanced up again, he saw that Paul’s head had fallen back. Under his hands, Gene felt Paul flex, wanting to thrust up, wanting to start to chase his climax. But Paul kept himself under control somewhat for Gene’s sake, settling out his breath as Gene flicked his tongue around the head of his cock. The lead singer’s hand tightened on his shoulder, and Gene took that to mean that he wanted him to go deep again, swallowing around him.

Paul groaned, hand shifting to the back of Gene’s neck. Ambition filled him, and Gene began to bob his head faster, feeling the way Paul flexed in his mouth, close so close. Paul didn’t push, but his desire was starting to put a little bit of a haze to his mind.

Ace’s eyes lit up as he watched the two of them. Intrigue and curiosity at the forefront of his facial expression. It shifted into delight as he saw the telltale signs of Paul’s oncoming climax. Paul draw in quick, shallow breaths, his hairy chest rose up and down in a fast pace, and- Oh! All he needed was Gene focusing on the head of his cock once again! Oh, _oh, oh!_

Paul groaned as he came. Not knowing his signs of coming, Gene ended up accidentally swallowing some of him then got the rest all over his face and hair. He made a face at Paul, then knelt back and wiped his face. Through sticky hands, he glanced up at his spent partner. Paul gave him a sated smile, and then reached down to pull Gene upwards and into his lap. “You were so good~” he praised him, layering on the sweetness in his tone. “Really good for your very first time~”

“…Alright,” Gene feigned minor indifference, but the blood rose to his cheeks at Paul’s praise. He couldn’t help it! He also couldn’t help but start to kiss his throat, his tongue flicking out to swipe across his previous mark. Paul let out a soft sound of approval, leaning his head back to expose more of his neck, his hair falling messily around the back of the chair. Gene was only too eager to lick and suck at his skin, utterly insatiable, hard-on rubbing insistently against him.

“Hey-- hey-- quit marking me up,” Paul complained, but he finally had to cup Gene’s chin, crushing their lips together, to get him to stop. The taste of his own come and Gene’s spit-- the proof Gene had done this for him, done this to him-- just sealed in the whole blissful unreality of it. He’d been planning on only offering a handjob in return, way back, before Gene’s lips had so much as touched his dick. Now he couldn’t refuse Gene a damn thing. “All right, all right-- I’ll take care of you.”

Now it was Paul who nipped playfully at his neck. He didn’t bite down hard enough to leave marks, though, since his intention was to have Gene raise his head back, then unknowingly back himself up with it. Gene moaned with appreciation as Paul began to rise from his chair and back him up against the closest wall. They kissed again, Gene shivering at the tingles at his skin being exposed to the cool wall. Paul pressed their hips together. Gene tilted his head back, growling through his teeth.

Ace swallowed, shifting to get a better look from his position on the floor. Watching Gene blow Paul had been fun, even hot, but watching the two of them go at it now, no hesitation, just desire, was way more intense than he’d anticipated. Out of all the things he had seen over the years, his sweet Paulie pinning Gene against the wall was something he’d never even imagined!

“Whoa…” he said, breathlessly, as Paul buried his face in Gene’s neck and his hands rubbed at his hips. 

All Gene could do was clutch desperately at the smooth wall beneath his fingers. He eventually lifted one of his hands to slide it up the back of Paul’s neck, through the black hair that was as soft as it looked, and spread his fingers to cradle his head. Paul responded to the slight tug on his hair with a gratifying gruff groan, and that sent a blaze of fire right through Gene’s chest and settled down in his cock.

Gene bucked his hips out unconsciously in response to the sweet-sharp ache, growling deeply when Paul rolled his own in reply, twisting his torso just right so that they were lined up perfectly against each other. Paul pressed his hips in harder to hold Gene in place while he palmed up and down his sides, purring beautifully when he got his mouth on one of Gene’s nipples. Gene could only tip his head back against the wall and feel himself begin to utterly melt beneath him.

“Is this okay?” Paul’s voice was soft, gentle compared to the assertiveness of his actions.

Gene swallowed hard a few times, trying to find his voice, but it seemed to have fled south along with most of his blood. All he could do was nod in reply. Enthusiastically. Almost a bit too enthusiastically, since he almost ended up knocking his chin against Paul’s forehead, missing him by just the cute curls of Paul’s hair. Paul laughed, and god fucking dammit, Gene felt the fire in his chest begin to roast him alive from the inside out! Damn… Dammit! Paul was driving him up the wall- literally! With his cute smile, that small crinkle at the edges of his eyes as he laughed, and his everything, it was all Gene could do to keep from pulling him back up and smashing their lips together. 

“Alright, cool~” Paul said in that soft, seductive voice of his. He caught Gene’s gaze, eyes blown and needy, and held it while he slid his fingers down the groove of Gene’s hips and back up again. 

From where he lay flopped on his side, Ace frowned a little. He wasn’t embarrassed, watching this, not at all, didn’t feel like he was peeking in on anything either of them didn’t want him to see. But somehow now he wasn’t as comfortable with it. Nothing to tease about here and now. They looked so good together, just like before, making out on Gene’s hotel bed. That time, he’d been invited to join in. This time, he knew better.

He thought about jacking off briefly-- maybe his cocaine high was gone, but he’d recovered enough that he could probably handle another round now-- and decided against it. Might as well wait it out. He’d have one pretty face in bed later tonight. Maybe two.

Meanwhile, Paul’s fingers were slowly sloping past Gene’s hips and down to the inside of his thighs, so tantalizingly close to his dick. Gene grunted, hips pushing up hopelessly, urgently enough that Paul laughed a little as he slowly sank to his knees in front of him. 

Last time, he’d been so damn eager, at least from his own booze-hazed memories. Really wanting to impress Gene, and really wanting to give Ace a worthwhile show. Now, though, he figured he could afford a little more finesse and a little less desperation.

Paul motioned for Gene to push his hips forward, allowing Gene to slide his cock over his tongue. Gene’s hand on his head, tangled now in his hair, pulled him forward until Paul had no choice but to deep throat him.

Paul set his hands lightly on Gene’s thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze. On instinct, Gene drew his hips back and pushed forward until Paul’s nose rested against his groin and his throat fluttered and clicked around his cock.

“B- Beautiful, Paul--” Gene murmured deeply, losing himself a bit in the moment. He grabbed Paul’s shoulders, rubbing them and pulling at his hair until Paul got the picture. The lead singer purred as he felt those thick fingers pull and yank at his hair before he picked up a quick pace, taking Gene quickly back and forth. It sparked a sort of wild energy in Gene, a rough sort of power that he hadn’t honestly expected to burst from him with this.

As Paul tried to set a good pace, Gene overtook him with a rough one, beginning to pump his hips against his face without any warning.

Paul would’ve made a face if his lips weren’t currently wrapped around his dick, but he’d be lying to himself if there weren’t nights were Ace got a little bit too high and got a bit rough. Never anything hard, just rough. Paul could handle a little hard loving. 

He kept his hands on Gene’s thighs, ready to squeeze if he honestly needed him to stop. Sure, he had long lost his gag-reflex, but he sure as hell didn’t need to end up with some sort of bruise on his face if Gene’s hips got sloppy and started to knock into him. So, he let himself take all of Gene’s cock, feeling the heat and the enjoyment the bassist got from being able to use him like this. 

“If he likes it rough,” Ace piped up again. “Then bite him, Paulie! I wanna see if he likes it!”

Gene pushed a growl out through clenched teeth and stared over at their lead guitarist still just lounging around on the floor. “Si- Silence!”

“Mhm, only if you say please~”

“Ah- hah- ah, fuck- hah- you!” Gene panted, heavily. He threw his head back against the wall and cursed, loudly. “Paul--!”

“Paulie can’t come to the phone right now,” Ace cackled, “He’s got his mouth full~ And damn, if you ain’t kosher, Gene! AHaHAahahahAHH!!”

Paul sent him a sharp glare, forcing Ace to halt his hyena laughing and meet his gaze. He tilted his head to the side, then asked, all faux-curiosity,

“What? I say something wrong?”

“Fuck-- Just stop--!” Gene snapped, fingers tugging back at Paul’s head to get him to ignore Ace and go back to his blow job. He was getting closer and closer now… He’d kill Ace if he stopped Paul now.

Luckily, if anything, Paul was redoubling his efforts, shutting his eyes now, all focus back on pleasuring Gene, even if he was pretty embarrassed not too deep beneath the surface. God, sometimes Ace could really use a dick stuffed in his mouth more often. He could feel the insistent rock of Gene’s hips grow more uneven and needy as he lapped long strokes against his cock. 

Gene hissed as Paul’s fingers dug into his ass, eyes widening as he forced himself back all the way against the wall. He let out a strangled noise when Paul took his cock all the way down his throat at a new angle, then. Gene pulled and tugged at Paul’s hair, trying to regain some semblance of his power even though his cock was throbbing with how much he was losing it, being so completely at Paul’s mercy.

“ _Fuck-_ ” Gene cursed as Paul gave him such a long, slow suck, so thorough that it made Gene’s toes curl in his boots. “C’mon- c’mon!” he moaned, loudly. “Ah, ha, _hah, Paul--!_ ” he choked on his next breath when Paul took him down to the hilt, throat convulsing around him in tight ripples. Paul moaned and the vibrations were what did Gene in. Just a few more seconds of Paul sucking him down, and Gene was coming with a shout, his hands slamming out against the walls to hold him up as his whole body struggled to stay standing.

His legs about gave out when he realized that Paul never took his lips off of him. No, no. Paul had taken every single last drop of him down his throat… _Oh fuck…_ He moaned as Paul let him slip from his mouth at last, then banged his head against the wall again as Paul buried his face in the crook of Gene’s thigh and his crotch.

“ _Gene-_ ” Paul groaned, and his voice just sounded so beautiful to him right now. Gene felt something in him growl possessively as he grabbed Paul’s hair to make him look up at him. Paul’s lips were wet, eyes dilated, his face still close enough that Gene could feel every ragged pant of breath blow against his heated skin. God. It was too much, too intoxicating a moment for him to hold onto for too long, but he wanted to. For a crazy few seconds, he was sure he wanted nothing more than this, nothing more than Paul. 

“C’mon up here,” he urged, letting go of his hair after another faint tug and reaching out his hand to grab Paul’s, hoisting him back to his feet. “You okay?”

“‘M amazing,” Paul smiled warmly, gently pressing himself against Gene’s front. “But I think I need a shower after all this…”

“Wanna share it?”

“Would I have the option this time,” Paul turned his head towards Ace. “Or would you just burst into the bathroom and jump in?”

“...Well, Paulie, which one is more fun~?” Ace giggled, hands reaching up and out for him once more. Paul huffed and rolled his eyes playfully at him.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Cuddles~ I was thinkin’ cuddles~” Ace cried out needily to him, as if he were a whiny two-year-old. “Now- yes, please!”

The corners of Paul’s lips twitched back a bit more, and he found himself peeling away from Gene and falling back down to his knees beside his Space Ace. Ace wrapped his arms around him, tightly, and nuzzled into his chest. Paul returned the warm affection, resting his head atop of his and stroking his hands down his sides.

“Mmmphm, Paulie~” Ace purred, cuddling the lead singer as if he really had gotten his teddy bear this evening.

Paul then turned and pressed a loving kiss atop his head, crooning out a sweet reply of, “Ace~ Space Ace~ You loved your Rocket Ride, didn’t you, baby?”

Ace hummed, nodding a bit. “Outta this world… Maybe all the way to Jendell…” he whispered, softly.

Paul’s eyes were soft and warm as they left his Space Ace and traveled back to the Demon still standing against the wall of the dressing room. His chest was rising and falling rather quick still… He raised a brow at that, knowing how Gene usually had a good recovery.

“Gene~ Gene~” Paul called out to him, lovingly. He said nothing else, simply raised his hand and extended it outwards to him. It was an invitation. An exclusive offer. A choice for him to finally make after so long. Paul smiled. He had a good feeling he knew what Gene would pick and finally put himself at ease with...

Gene had watched it all. The intimacy, the soft touches. Even after what they’d just done together, Paul was doubling back to Ace. He was falling into the same jealous patterns he’d accused Ace of, for far, far less reason. But then Paul obliterated all that with just an outstretched hand. 

And all of a sudden, the wall felt like ice against his back.

There was the offer. Right there in front of him. All the months he’d spent ruminating, imagining what they were doing, picturing it with disgust and loathing and an almost criminal want-- he could find out. He could be a part of it, a real part of it. They could all build each other up, take care of each other. Start fixing KISS before it split at the seams.

Or they could wreck everything. Everything they’d worked so hard to create. KISS-- KISS depended on image more than any band, _any_ band. If Paul and Ace were relatively discrete, that was more Paul’s doing than Ace’s, and if Gene got involved-- shit, it’d only take one rumor in the wrong tabloid to ruin them. They weren’t Jagger or Bowie, legends that didn’t care who the press said they were fucking. KISS was plastered on grammar school kids’ lunchboxes. Dolls. Fucking comic books. That would all go away. It’d all disappear.

He only cares about his image, Ace had said. Maybe he hadn’t been so wrong. And maybe it was more than that. Fear of publicity or no, the longer he had to come down from orgasm, the more shaken and scared and disgusted he felt. The more what he’d done and what he’d seen turned his stomach. And now Paul wanted to invite him in, offer him a repeat-- as if he’d want that, as if he could possibly--

“No…” It was soft, barely said above a whisper, but Paul heard it clear as day.

His hand dropped ever so slightly as his eyes widened. “... Wha… What? Gene…?”

“No,” Gene tore his eyes away from them, covering his face with his hands. He shook his head. “... I- I can’t…”

“Paulie…?” Ace’s confused voice rose up from beneath Paul as he picked up on the lead singer’s increased heartbeat. It was booming thunder against his ear. He saw the panic in Paul’s eyes- the tears begin to gather at their corners- and he whipped his head around to face Gene.

The bassist was backing himself further away from them by the second. His hands flew from his face and grabbed his bag of normal clothes that was laying down beside the dressing room door. Paul’s voice broke as he called out for him the moment he turned his back to them.

“Gene! _Gene! No! NO! Please, please, please,_ ” he begged him, pleaded with him, desperately. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, dripping off onto Ace’s head as he cried. “ _Y- You wanted this! You said so! Y- You can’t---_ ”

“ _I can’t!_ ”

Those words shot through Paul. They robbed him of his voice. Stabbed his heart. Beat him to death on the floor and left him fully deaf to anything- _anything else!_

And yet, the words still dropped from his lips, “... I love you…”

Gene couldn’t process the words. He hardly even realized that he was scrambling to throw on some normal clothes overtop his black bodysuit. He didn’t register the crying and sobs going off like an explosion only a few feet from him.

Gene held his breath. There was screaming and pleading trying to enter his ear- but he ignored his pounding heart. His hand shook slightly as he gathered his things and turned to the door.

An outstretched hand brushed against his shoulder, but he knocked it away. He didn’t need to turn his head to know it was Paul’s. He couldn’t say a word to him. What could he do at this point? He… He… 

He just left.

“ _-no, no, wait Gene! No!_ ”

Paul’s legs gave out from under him the second the door slammed right in his face. He gasped at the air, straining to keep himself focused- composed- but he was far past that. Every muscle felt taut, every joint dully aching, as the poison of dark emotions began to seep deep into his spirit. He felt… lifeless. A broken toy yet again… Paul breathed in slowly and-

“ _A- Ace!_ ” he threw his head back and cried out through clenched teeth. His body couldn’t even move back to him. Paul just fell over onto the floor and curled tightly in on himself, sobbing like the wreck he was.


End file.
